JXHQ: Even Clowns Get Scared
by thechokesonyou
Summary: The Joker has a very disturbing dream, which results in a lot of fluff that he'll probably regret later on...


Throbbing wounds covered every inch of his body. He slipped down the wall of the bathtub, resting his head against the tile as the hot water poured down over his head, making his hair stick to his forehead. Droplets of water clung to his eyelashes, blocking his vision. He saw a dark shadow moving on the other side of the glass of the shower, but couldn't raise his head. He knew who it was. Pulling his legs further up around him, he leaned further into the corner as the glass door opened.

Her familiar voice — a voice that would further send shivers of love and adoration but also fear and terror down his spine — started to speak. "Stand up," She demanded. He couldn't hardly move. How did she expect him to stand? "I said _get up,_" She growled, grabbing his hair in a fist and yanking his head back, forcing him to look at her. The water poured down from the shower head and into his eyes, burning his irises. He blinked rapidly to try and protect himself from the onslaught of the rain. The flat palm of her hand slapped his cheekbone hard, forcing his head to the side. He slowly raised himself up, supporting himself against the wall. When his vision finally cleared, he saw that she was naked, her beautiful body covered in water droplets as she walked into the shower with him. He hated that he loved her so much, that he thought she was beautiful even now.

Her palms slid up his chest, around his neck and into his hair and relaxed against her hands, closing his eyes. Her full lips enclosed his and she started to work his mouth, but he didn't have the energy to respond. She knew this, and didn't bother screaming at him or hitting him. "Oh, my beautiful Joker," She purred seductively in his ear, a voice so rich with desire and promise it would have made any man fall to his knees. How did he get so lucky to have the attentions of this beautiful woman? The cut on his side throbbed but he ignored it. She was loving him now. He didn't need to think about what happened earlier.

Her stomach rubbed against his soft member and it twitched in response. He knew he didn't have the energy to make love to her, but… The feeling of her smooth, wet skin against him made him want her, and he couldn't control the way his body immediately responded. He didn't need more than one of two touched before he was sporting a raging hard-on. "Oh," He moaned, his lips parted in pleasure as she sunk to her knees and started to flick her tongue against his cock. "Miss Quinn," He gasped. She sucked hard on the head and dipped her tongue into the hole of his cock before sliding down further to lick the bass of his shaft. Finally, she came back up to face level and forced him up against the wall. She turned around, putting her hands on the wall and rubbing her wet sex against him. He shuddered violently.

She pushed hard against him, impaling herself on him and started fucking him backwards. Oh, she felt so good. So… So tight around him, so perfect. The love he felt for her was tremendous. As she moved back and forth against him, she growled his name out, throwing her head back as her wet blonde hair flipped back. She was so beautiful… The image of her moaning, her lips parted and eyes closed, threw him over the edge and he combusted inside of her, filling her up and she groaned, in either anger or pleasure. He couldn't tell. He almost collapsed against the wall. "Miss Quinn," He whimpered. He came before she did… She wouldn't be happy.

She immediately retracted from him and the rest of his cum poured out to the shower floor. She scowled at him. "You can't do anything right," She hissed.

"Pathetic," She muttered. "Worthless son of a… Completely ungrateful… Selfish little…" She stormed out of the bathroom angrily, flipping her wet hair over her shoulder and marching herself away. Tears pricked his eyes and he slid back down the tile wall, his chest contracting. Why did she keep him around? He was terrible. He did nothing right. He was pathetic.

The water turned cold but he couldn't bring himself from the shower. After an hour of shivering under the pounding stream of water, he fell asleep into a deep comatose.

**He woke up in a cold sweat, shaking **uncomfortably. He was freezing, the sweat cold and damp on his skin, giving him goosebumps. It was a dream, he told himself. It was only a dream. A horrifying dream. He sucked in another harsh breath before standing up and grabbing a shirt from the floor, wiping his chest and neck and arms to rid himself of the frozen sweat. Finally, he was able to drag his eyes back to the bed.

Harley was not there.

He swallowed. Where was she? A blinding panic flooded his veins, making him sick. Why was he suddenly worried about her? The dream had messed him up somehow. He left the room and started to look around the apartment. She was on the couch. It suddenly came back to him. She'd tried to come to bed but he'd been angry, very angry and had thrown her from the room. No wonder he was so cold. He didn't have his personal furnace to keep him warm. Rubbing his neck, he wandered to the couch in the dark, kneeling beside the cushions. His fingers stroked her hair back from her face. She looked so cute when she was asleep.

Her lower lip pouted out and he could see her two front teeth behind the part of her mouth. Her cheeks were flushed, a cute pink color and her hair was covering her face. He sighed loudly. His Harley. As his vision adjusted, he saw the large black bruise spreading on her temple out across her forehead. His stomach twisted uncomfortably. His fingers brushed over it gently. Suddenly her eyelashes started to flutter and her tired, squinted eyes opened, appraising him with first confusion and then a look of absolute love. "Hi, Puddin'," She whispered. "You okay, boss?"

He nodded. "Had a bad dream, kiddo."

"Wanna talk about it?" She murmured.

"Nah, baby. It's okay. Wanna come to bed with me?" He asked, cocking his head to the side, stroking her cheek still. She beamed at him.

"Can I really?" She sounded so excited, so thrilled to be able to have the honor to sleep beside him. He smiled down at her solicitously. His baby girl, his Harley.

He nodded. "Come on, pooh. Daddy'll carry his pumpkin pie to bed." She grinned, basking in his loving attentions. He scooped her up in his strong arms and she threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest.

"I love you, Daddy," She said into his bare chest.

"You're my baby girl," He said, kissing the top of her head. She smiled gently. Laying her down in the bed, he crawled over her and then wrapped his arms around her. This was better, he thought. The dream still was shaking him up. He'd felt so… Humiliated. Demeaned. He couldn't bare it. He looked down at the tiny blonde that was snuggling up against him in awe. She was so strong, so determined to prove her love. He was… He swallowed. He was a lucky man to have such a faithful girl by his side. He hated feeling that way, but… Well, she was something special. He peppered her face with small kisses and she giggled, a sound that made him grin. "Ya know, pooh," He whispered into her ear. "I think tomorrow we'll force Rocco to make us some waffles for breakfast and have a big breakfast in bed."

"Really, Mr. J?" She whispered back.

"Really, baby," He told her. "Now, quiet, and let Daddy sleep." Harley giggled again, cuddling closer into his chest. Maybe he wouldn't feel this way tomorrow. But it was nice to relax sometimes. It was nice not always being angry with her.

She _was _his girl, after all.


End file.
